Sometimes, I wish I was a cat.
Not only so I could sleep all day and shamelessly ignore people I don’t like, but also to have nine lives.
In one of my lifetimes, I’d follow my current path of selling my soul to law school debt. In another, I’d be a professional chef. But one, or even two lifetimes, would be reserved for journalism.
At the end of the day, I don’t think anything else compares to the thrill of having an investigation to work on. The unexpected breakthroughs and the epiphanies you have while trying to fall asleep at night have made up some of my favorite moments at UCLA.
But what I’ve come to realize is that journalism doesn’t have to be my profession to continue to be important in my life – and no, I am not advocating for overzealous blogging as an alternative, so you can safely keep reading.
The same lessons that I’ve learned working for the paper I’ll use for the rest of my life.
I’ve mastered the art of convincing sources that it’s in their best interest to talk to me, even if it appears otherwise. I’ve learned how to step back and try to find the big picture, even when I may not have all of the facts yet.
And mostly I’ve learned that journalists are the greatest people you’ll ever meet, and you should probably eat lunch at their tables if only for the great conversations.
I’ll forever be grateful to these friends for tackling my preconceptions, for dealing with my stories that regularly come in without a lede or an ending and for taking on the world’s problems with me from the comfort of our couches.
It was these conversations that really solidified my resolve to be a lawyer – notwithstanding the frequent life crises that caused me to doubt it.
Both professions, when done well, aim for the same goals – to use a public forum to solve problems – and the world we’re entering has problems aplenty.
It so happens that I enjoy a good argument more than the next person, and this way I get to continue college for three more years.
A part of me will always miss the deadlines and receiving crazy calls at 8 in the morning when another parking lot is evacuated because of a strange object – it’s always a lost backpack, guys – but you can’t have everything in life.
In the future, maybe I’ll come back to journalism, but in the meantime I’ll eagerly look out for some friendly bylines.
Boyarsky was a news reporter from 2010-2013.